


The Familiar's Choice

by MonPetitTresor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Bonding, Familiar bonding, Familiar!Sam, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort of canon AU story. “For all of his life Sam had known that he was different. Some of his earliest memories, hazy and foggy though they might be, were of lying curled up against his mother, the warmth of her fur a neat little nest in which Sam hid, happy and safe and sheltered, completely blind to the world around him and yet with the knowledge that he was safe.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Familiar's Choice

For all of his life Sam had known that he was different. Some of his earliest memories, hazy and foggy though they might be, were of lying curled up against his mother, the warmth of her fur a neat little nest in which Sam hid, happy and safe and sheltered, completely blind to the world around him and yet with the knowledge that he was safe.

It wasn’t exactly a memory that Sam could share with anyone. Not many people had known that Mary Winchester had been a familiar – one who had never found her witch. Being raised in a family of hunters, it was kept very quiet, something they hadn’t wanted anyone to know. It wasn’t any real wonder that she’d never found herself her witch. Instead, she’d found John Winchester, and she’d never looked back. Nor had she ever told her husband. Not until Sam was born – and when he made his first shift before he was even a day old.

Mary had been a fox familiar, John had later told Sam, and so when Sam had shifted into a fox as well, it hadn’t surprised her. He told Sam how happy she’d been, how eager she’d been to tell him all about his heritage and to teach him about himself and his powers. Unfortunately, fate had taken that away from them on the night of Sam’s six month birthday when Azazel had come into his nursery.

What Sam had learned about being a familiar had come in bits and pieces through his childhood from various lore books and stories as well as a lot of trial and error. Most of it had to be done out of John’s sight – one thing Sam had learned quickly was that his father didn’t have a high tolerance for this part of his son. He was of the mindset that if something was supernatural, you killed it. Being a familiar should’ve fit into that category. The only reason Sam was alive was because he was John’s son, and because John had decided the same thing that Mary’s parents had – this was a part that needed to be hidden, never used.

It was Dean who helped Sam secretly learn about this part of himself. Dean was the one who had discovered any scrap of information about familiars so he could help Sam through this.

Everything they read and learned said that a familiar had to find their witch, rather than a witch finding their familiar. Once chosen, they were bound to their witch, unable to leave their master and unable to disobey a direct order from them. That was why Dean was bound and determined to keep his brother as safe from any witches as possible. It didn’t stop them from hunting them, or dealing with them if they came across one, but knowing one was in town always made Dean keep Sam just a little bit closer to him. Like he often told Sam, “I’m not gonna let you become some freakin’ demon witch’s bitch.”

Sam never mentioned to Dean the part of himself that wondered sometimes what it would be like to have a witch. To have someone to share the kind of bond with that Sam had only heard of.

Dean – and later Bobby – were the only two Sam had to turn to for anything. They were the ones who taught him how to shift safely, how to use what powers came with this part of himself, and how to even use his animal senses somewhat while in human form. They were also the ones that helped Sam find out that he was different, even in the world of familiars.

All the lore suggested that a familiar could only shift into one animal and that their first shift didn’t happen until puberty. The earlier a familiar shifted, the stronger they were, and the stronger their witch was predicted to be.

Sam had shifted within his first day of life, and while he’d started out as a fox, that wasn’t the only form he shifted into.

As he grew older he found that he could shift into many forms, though he had a preference for being a dog. Dean had joked once that Sam was the only mutt allowed in the car.

So Sam had always known that he was different than the rest. Something strange. Something, not normal.

He just never realized how different he was destined to be.

* * *

Sam felt restless as he leaned against the side of the Impala and waited for his brother to get back from checking them in. Ever since they’d come to Springfield, Ohio to follow the case that they’d found, it felt like there was something itching just underneath Sam’s skin. Some vague sort of energy that prickled there and left him wanting to constantly shift around. Like somehow his skin wasn’t fitting quite right.

He’d felt something similar to this before, though never quite like this. Whenever there were witches around there was always a part of Sam that took note of them. A little spark in his senses that basically told him _Witch, that way_. He’d learned to ignore it, or, to use it. Just as he’d learned various ways to use his senses to track other supernatural creatures. Werewolves made Sam’s hair stand up on end and left the dog inside wanting to constantly snarl. Many of the sea or water creatures they hunted had an aquatic sort of smell to them. Vampires smelled like death and blood. There were a lot of different things for different creatures, but only witches put that spark in his brain.

Nothing had ever put a spark through his whole body before.

Maybe he just needed to get out a little tonight. It’d been a while since he’d felt safe enough to let his inner animal run free. _Not since Meg._

That thought made Sam grimace. No, he hadn’t let his inner animal out since Meg. The things she’d done in his body while possessing him had been… monstrous. While she hadn’t been able to make him shift, she _had_ been able to make him feel like more of an animal than any of his animal forms ever had. Ever since he’d gotten his body back he’d been reluctant to let himself go in any way that might’ve felt like a loss of control to his human half.

He really should’ve known better than to do that. Not shifting for too long always left him way too on edge. He and Dean had discovered that back when Sam was fifteen and he’d had to hold off on shifting for almost a month because they’d been stuck nonstop with their father, with Sam under John’s extra watchful eye, all because they’d been hunting a coven of witches and there’d been nowhere safe for Sam to go at that time and John hadn’t trusted to just leave him alone. By the end of that hunt, Sam had almost gone insane, his whole body in pain and the dog – his preferred transformation – snarling almost nonstop inside of him. He’d been jumpy, restless, clingy – just all around, a mess.

That had to be why Sam felt so off-kilter. He resolved to fix it as quickly as possible.

There wasn’t really anything that they had to do tonight, seeing as it was really too late to do anything but check in, so the two headed straight to their room once Dean got back with the keys.

Sam waited until they were inside and Dean was in the bathroom before he sighed and reached down inside himself. Shifting was easy to him, as easy as drawing a breath. There was a tingle that ran over him like a little electric current, not the least bit painful, and when he opened his eyes once more he was standing on four legs instead of two. He gave his body a shake and let all his fur settle. His long coat had been a source of teasing ever since the first time Sam had transformed into a dog around Dean. His brother, once he got over the surprise of Sam being a dog instead of a fox, had laughed so hard he’d almost fallen off the bed. “Look at you, Samantha!” he’d teased between laughs. “A golden retriever? Really?”

As Sam had gotten older and he’d let his human hair grow out it had only increased the teasing.

Any teasing tonight was going to be worth it. Being in this form felt, _right_. It really had been too long. Sam planted his front feet and bent back, lifting his tail up in the air as he stretched out his back. Then he leaned forward and pushed his chest up, stretching his back legs out behind him. It felt so good! He was just hopping up onto the bed when his brother came out of the bathroom.

Dean took one look at him and snorted. “I’m not cleaning up any fur, Princess. You get that luxury. I’m not dealing with the manager bitching about unwanted pets.”

It was a familiar threat and one Sam didn’t bother even worrying over. He could hear the easy flow under Dean’s words and his scent was nice and relaxed, if not _relieved_. Apparently Dean had been worrying about his lack of shifting as well.

Giving a low rumble that was half growl, half bark – a canine version of a laugh – Sam braced his feet on his bed and wiggled a little, always much more playful in this form. He saw as Dean realized what he was going to do. His big brother held up his hands and took a step back. “Oh no, dude. I am not getting covered in…argh!”

The words cut off when Sam launched at him. He’d wrestled with his brother plenty of times like this and knew just how to land to take Dean down without seriously hurting him. Though Sam looked like a golden retriever, he was just a bit bigger than most.

The two hit the ground in a tumble of limbs. For all his gruff curses and complaints it was still easy to get Dean involved in a quick wrestling match that finally ended with Dean lying flat on his back on the ground, limbs flopped out, and Sam lying on his chest. Sam laid his head down between his paws right over Dean’s heart and let his tongue loll out, giving his brother a grin. He watched Dean roll his eyes even as he grinned right back at Sam. “Get off me, you giant mutt. I’m gonna smell like dog all night now.”

Sam gave him a look that clearly said ‘ _and that’s new how?’_ that only earned him another roll of the eyes before he was shoved off of Dean’s chest. Yet once Dean was up, he proved yet again what an awesome brother he was by grabbing the bag they kept just for instances like this and pulling out the big blanket kept in there. Dean shook it out and spread it over the top of Sam’s motel bed. They kept the blanket so that Sam could be free to lay in bed without getting dog hair or everything and without being forced to smell whatever had been on the motel bedding before him. Dean had been the one to think of it after he’d watched Sam sniff and scowl at one too many beds. One day after that a blanket had just appeared in their stuff and was brought out without question each time they needed it. No matter how much Dean bitched or teased him or anything it never stopped his brother from taking care of him.

As Sam lay down in his bed, he let out a happy little sigh, curling his body in until his nose was buried underneath his tail. This was just what he needed. Going without shifting for too long always messed him up. That had to be why he’d felt so off earlier.

Content, he drifted down into sleep.

* * *

Only, that feeling came back all over again the next morning, and it stuck around though most of the day. As Sam did his research and prepared them so they could start asking questions, he felt like that spark was just hanging out underneath his skin all day long buzzing at him and keeping him distracted. What it was he had no idea and he was loathe to mention it to Dean. He had a feeling his brother would have him out of town in an instant if he knew. Though he didn’t hold on to a lot of John’s feelings when it came to Sam’s ‘difference’, he did tend to keep Sam far away from witches if possible. Knowing Dean he’d assume that that’s what this was and get him the hell out of town.

For some reason that thought made Sam a little sick.

Something of that on edge feeling must’ve been bleeding through though despite Sam’s best efforts to hide it. He and Dean were bickering far more than was normal between them. Their day was its usual mix of research, interviews, and even time at the bar for more interviews. Going to the bar usually helped Dean out a little. It gave him time to drink and relax and hit on a few chicks. Sam had long since grown used to his brothers ways. All in all, just normal stuff for them. They just bickered through it a lot more than normal.

By the time they decided to head over to the college the next day, Sam was beginning to wonder if maybe some of this _was_ a witch. It’d explain why he felt the way he did.

They were halfway there when Dean seemed to decide that enough was enough. “Dude, what’s going on with you?” His brother asked, showing once more that he was a bit more astute than people liked to give him credit for.

“What are you talking about?” Sam tried for nonchalant, knowing even as he did that he was failing at it.

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “Right. You really wanna try that with me, Princess? Something’s crawled up your ass. I thought spending a little time as Samantha would’ve made you more cheerful, not bitchier.”

The feminine nicknames had Sam glaring over at him. A bitchface, his brother would call it. Then it melted away and Sam sighed. He slumped down a little in his seat. “I don’t know. I thought it would, too. I just… something’s off in this town. I can’t tell if it’s good or bad. It just makes me feel… itchy.”

“Do we need to pick up some flea treatment?”

“Nice, Dean.” The glare was back full force now. Sam huffed disgustedly at his brother. “I don’t have freaking fleas, all right? I just…. there’s something strange here, I know it. Something we haven’t dealt with before.”

For all that he could be a dick sometimes there was no denying just what was important in Dean’s world. Their father would’ve told Sam to suck it up or he would’ve left him locked in their motel room. Dean just pulled the car into a parking spot at the University and turned to fix Sam with a serious look. “Do we need to leave?”

He said it with all seriousness, too. If Sam said yes, Dean would turn the car back on and get them out of there. Knowing that eased just a tiny bit of the tension that had been building in Sam. He shook his head, smiling a little. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

“You sure? Cause you just say the word, Sammy. We’ll call Bobby and get some other hunters here on it.”

Sam shook his head and his tone firmed, as did his resolve. “No. We started this, we can finish it.”

Later, Dean would wish that he’d turned the Impala on and simply driven away.

* * *

That prickling under Sam’s skin grew stronger as they made their way out of the Impala and into the college. There was something here… something in the air. The dog inside sat up at attention and had Sam taking a short sniff of the air. There was something interesting in the air. Something that was almost, delicious, with layers to it that Sam wanted to spend years dissecting. He could smell something that was like the air before a storm in the middle of a forest, with this undertone of lightning, sharp and electric, and something – sweet. Burnt sugar? Taffy? It was _amazing_.

The sound of footsteps drew Sam out of his thoughts and he focused on the door at the far end of the hall just as it opened and someone came walking through. Someone who had every single inch of Sam at attention. The dog inside gave a happy little growling rumble and if Sam had been in that form, his tail would’ve been wagging. What the hell?

Beside him, he saw Dean tense ever so slightly, so slight no one else would’ve noticed it. But it told Sam that he wasn’t hiding his reactions as well as he thought he was.

The guy who came walking towards them was grinning, golden eyes sparkling like he was in one some joke that the rest of them didn’t know. He was short, probably only reaching Sam’s shoulder, and he looked like he had a decent form packed into the janitor uniform he wore. Blondish brown hair hung loose around his head, brushed back when he got close, showing off more of that smile that looked more like a smirk than anything else.

More than that, though, was the absolute _power_ that the man was radiating. It was more power than Sam had ever sensed on any being before and it _called_ to him. Reached out to him and into him and every part of Sam was lighting up in response. There was some part of him deep inside that was simple and primal, the part of him that had been absolutely _made for this_ , and that part of him was growling a happy _Mine, Mine, Mine_ , in time with his heartbeat.

He’d found him.

Sam had been so sure he would never find his witch. Even with all the ones they hunted and killed he’d been absolutely sure that he would never find his witch. He’d heard all the stories, of course. Swallowed all the ones that Bobby had given him. He knew the stories about how a familiar just knew their witch the instant they found them. How something in the power reached out to the familiar and it was that familiar’s choice to say yes or no, to reach back to them or deny the bond. He’d heard it was an amazing and powerful thing – he’d just never quite believed it. Not until now.

The familiar didn’t even realize at first that he’d stepped away from Dean. He took a step forward, stopped only by his brother’s grip on his arm.

A low, feral sounding growl bubbled up Sam’s throat, because that hand was stopping him, it was keeping him from his witch, and Sam _wanted_. This was _his_. This was _home_.

The guy arched his eyebrows at them and froze just a few feet away. “There a problem here?” He drawled out.

That _voice_. Sam wanted to growl again, happier this time. That beautiful voice. His witch was talking to him, looking at him with curiosity and not a single hint of fear despite the way Sam had growled like a beast, and he was beautiful and strong and unafraid and just _perfect._

Letting go of the constraints that he’d held on the familiar half of himself, the part that always reacted even a little to witches, Sam let his inner self run free in a way he never had before and he reached a hand out, needing to touch, needing to cement this _need_ inside of him that was screaming to touch, to take, to protect. This was his witch, _his_ , and a familiar’s job was to protect them, to care for them, to support them. Sam wanted that. He wanted to curl around his witch and shelter him and feel his magic inside of him and around him. He wanted to snap and snarl at the enemies that would dare to get close to him. God, he just _wanted_.

“Sam!” Dean growled out, tugging on Sam’s arm, yanking him back a step. He dropped his voice low for Sam’s sharp ears only and snapped “Knock it off, Sammy! What the hell are you doing?”

Sam gave a sharp tug on his arm and didn’t manage to break free, but he managed to move himself forward just enough, just enough to catch just the edge of his witch’s hand, and the whole world exploded in color and power and sound. It was like Sam’s senses had been so dull before and were now flung open and wide. He could sense _everything_. All the power that Sam held in him poured down his arm and through his hand into the witch he was touching. In that moment, half a bond was formed, a promise from familiar to witch to guard and protect and shelter, to support and care and _love_. It was only half a bond – the other half had to be completed by the witch. It had to be agreed.

Only, Sam found himself being yanked backwards by his brother just as the power finally let go of him, and the man across from him – _Gabriel_ , his mind whispered, _Gabriel –_ stumbled back as well, those golden eyes wide and stunned. They were locked right on Sam, the two of them staring at one another. Dean was completely forgotten despite his hold on Sam.

“What have you done?” Gabriel breathed out, sounding just as stunned as he looked. “What the hell have you done?”

The half-formed bond in Sam was rejoicing at finding his witch. His dog sat up at attention and howled happily. _Mine_ , the familiar growled inside, not realizing that he’d said the word out loud until Dean started cursing and Gabriel looked like someone had slapped him.

“What did you do to him?” Dean demanded. He was tugging Sam back more, trying to place himself between them as if he could protect his brother that way. “Freaking witch, keep your damn hands away from my brother!”

Gabriel regained some of his control. Though the shock was still in his eyes, it wasn’t as clearly written all over his face. “ _My_ hands off _him_? I wasn’t the one playing grabby hands here, bucko.” His words were mocking yet his eyes stayed on Sam. “I don’t know what you’re on here, kiddo, but I think we got a case of crossed wires. I’ve never seen you before and I’ve got no idea who you are. I’m sure as hell not a witch or whatever it is your insane brother thinks I am.”

_Lies_ , the familiar’s mind whispered, and Sam believed it though he didn’t know how he knew it. He tried to push against Dean only to find that he was still held back. Restraining a sound of annoyance that would’ve probably come out as too much of a growl, Sam kept his gaze focused on his witch. “I can feel your power.” There was no point in hiding it. Not now. _Mine, mine, mine._ “It’s more than any I’ve ever felt. I know what you are, Gabriel – just like you know who and what I am.” Where the words came from, he didn’t know, but they felt so true.

Once more Gabriel’s eyes went wide. Then they narrowed down to something sharper and a lot more suspicious. The next thing Sam knew there was a snap of the witch’s fingers and they disappeared from the college and reappeared in what looked like some kind of auditorium or something like that.

The move startled Dean and now he wasn’t just holding Sam back, he was reaching for a weapon as well.

Sam couldn’t quite stop his next growl. He couldn’t let his brother hurt Gabriel. He _wouldn’t_.

However, Gabriel didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Another snap and Dean was in one of the auditorium chairs, held down by some invisible force if the way he struggled yet didn’t get up was any indicator. That left Gabriel and Sam standing a few feet apart staring at one another.

“You’re going to tell me how exactly you know my name.” Gabriel asked him flatly. “And why I shouldn’t just kill you now and save myself whatever trouble you might cause.”

There was no real threat in those words. Not that Sam could feel – and he could feel so much right now. Lifting one hand, he tapped his forehead. “I _know_. Can you feel it?” It was almost like some part of Sam had taken a backseat for this and some other part was stepping forward and taking control. A stronger, more confident part of him. “I felt what you were the minute you stepped into the room. I’ve been feeling you since I came to town, really, I just didn’t know what it was. But I know now. I can feel your power, Gabriel. It called to me.”

“You have no idea what you’ve stepped into here.” Gabriel said, voice low. His eyes were darkening as they watched Sam and he made no move to get away. “I’m not a witch, kiddo. Far from it. And you – you’re not this. At least, you’re not supposed to be. Someone’s been messing around with things they shouldn’t have.”

A muffled snarl sounded from Dean’s direction.

Sam tilted his head in a gesture Dean always teased him bled over from the dog. There was a lot in what Gabriel said that he wanted to question. But one point he felt he had to correct first. “You’re _my_ witch.”

“I’m really not.” Gabriel shook his head and then spread his hands out, adopting that mocking smirk once more. “At the moment, I’m a pagan god, Sammy, and I’ve been a hell of a lot of other things, too, but a witch aint one of them.”

The familiar shrugged one shoulder. “Witch, pagan, whatever – I can feel it, in here.” He lifted a fist and tapped it over his heart. “I don’t care what you call yourself. I can feel your magic and it calls to me. You’re mine and I’m yours. I’ve made my promise. What you choose to do with it is yours.”

The words felt old, ancient even, drawn from deep inside, but they also felt right.

The power of his witch – pagan, whatever he was – grew in the air. Sam felt it reaching out around them both, teasing along his skin with a question, a hint of something that had Sam wanting to promise him everything. He watched with wide eyes as Gabriel took a small step towards him. His eyes began to glow with the power that Sam was feeling. They lit with a power that was both dark and light, the two swirling together. “You have no idea what you’ve done.” Gabriel told him. His voice had an extra resonance to it. Sam swore he could hear something else, just at the edge of his hearing. The sound of drums and horns, playing softly and twining together. Gabriel took another step forward. “You pledged yourself to me without even knowing who or what I am. You started this bond – a bond that shouldn’t even be possible – and you put your everything into it.”

Sam swallowed down the lump in his throat and watched as Gabriel took another step forward. There was barely a foot between them now.

“Someone messed this up, trying to do who knows what.” Gabriel said. Another step forward. “Whatever they were trying to do, I doubt it was this. I doubt they thought it would put you on this road, to _here_. To me.” Another step. They were close now, close enough that Sam could touch him, yet the familiar remained still. “If I were who I used to be, I’d let you go. I’d break this bond and give you your freedom.” One last step and now he was right there, right up against Sam, and though he was shorter he seemed so much larger then, so much greater. His mouth quirked up and the power in his eyes grew even stronger. Sam swore he couldn’t breathe. “Luckily for us, I haven’t been him in a long, long time.”

Gabriel’s hand lifted and the power in the air seemed to gather together. It was all held in that one spot, pulsing in that little gap of air between Gabriel’s hand and Sam’s chest.

Holding his breath, Sam waited. The bond that had only been half formed was now throbbing inside of him. All of Sam’s being was focused on that hand, the power there, and those damned eyes.

“Sam Winchester,” Gabriel said, smirking. “You and I are going to have so much fun.”

His hand dipped down and closed over Sam’s hip and the world exploded in a blinding flash of light.


End file.
